For the honor of squad four
by Obvious Pseudonym O'Flaherty
Summary: Hanataro Yamada has had enough of other squads bullying his teammates, he decides to take action. Ichigo learns to use fullbring instead of Shinigami powers. Both these actions have lasting repercussions.
1. Yamada of squad four

**AN: This is just a really fun little idea I came up with this morning, I thought it was cute and cool, so I decided to write it up. Anyways, remember Hanataro? That really cute harmless soul reaper with the healing powers? Well I decided to explore his potential.**

"Wait! I'm sorry!" The small figure shouted, her voice fearful.

"You better be sorry! Next time you bring us tea, make sure it's hot, idiot!"

Hanataro watched as the musclebound soul reaper chased his teammate down the alley. He sighed. The other teams had always treated the squad four members like this. Hanataro wondered why. Was it because they were weak? No, he couldn't believe that; soul reapers were supposed to be all about protecting and helping weak people. Was it because they used kido? Well, maybe that would be enough for squad eleven to hate them, but squad eleven hated most kido users, thinking them weaklings. No, Hanataro decided. It must be because they didn't view squad four as fighters. Certainly, they saw his captain, Retsu Unohana, as a dangerous and respected fighter, because she was as strong as Kenpachi. But as much as she might try to protect them, the fact was that her reputation was not enough to protect the whole of her squad.

Watching the larger soul reaper chase his companion down the alleyway, Hanataro made up his mind. Squad four needed a reputation for fighting. He would do what he must. Hanataro went back to the barracks to pick up his zanpakuto.

* * *

It was early in the day, and the squad eleven members were eating a hearty breakfast together in the barracks, readying themselves for another day's grueling training. Ikkaku Madarame sat near the head of the first table, devouring his second portion of grilled fish on rice, when a knock came at the door. A few reapers looked up from their food in mild curiosity; most simply continued to eat, uncaring.

"Enter" Ikkaku shouted. Normally, the right to let people in was the property of the captain or lieutenant only, but he, the third seat, was the highest seat currently present. The door opened and a minuscule, black haired figure entered. Rukia? No, even she had more muscle mass than that. Then Ikkaku noticed the emblem on their shoulder. Squad four. So this runt was one of them, huh? "What are you doing here, pipsqueak?" He asked quietly. He didn't hold the dislike of the fourth squad that some of his teammates did. He just didn't see the point of healers who couldn't fight their own battles. What was the point? A few heads turned towards the door, a few voices letting out evil little chuckles.

"U-ummm," The runt said quietly, eyes downcast. "I uhh… I c-came here to…"

"Spit it out, soldier," Ikkaku cut him off, annoyed. "Do you have a message for us? A mission perhaps?"

The tiny soul reaper shook his head, a motion that seemed to require his whole body to perform, before looking Ikkaku in the eye.

"I… I want to make a bet!" He cried out, squeezing his eyes shut.

The room went quiet. If anything united squad eleven besides a mutual love of combat, it was gambling. What few reapers had been ignoring the boy before turned their heads to him now, their interest piqued.

"A bet, huh?" Ikkaku murmured genially. "What kind of bet, kid?"

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He closed it again, gulped heavily, and tried a second time.

"I… I want to fight the strongest person in this room," Hanataro said, the trembling in his voice clearly audible in the quiet. "If I win, your whole squad needs to stop picking on squad four and treat them with respect!"

The room was utterly silent for a few seconds; then came the laughter. It was everywhere. Almost every man seated in there was laughing at the boy. He quailed. Next to Ikkaku, Yumichika turned one eye towards him.

"Well? Are you going to take the boy up on it?"

Ikkaku grinned. Whoever this kid was, he had spunk.

"You know what kid? Sure, sounds like fun." The laughter died away immediately.

"B-but third seat! Fighting a wimp like this kid's a waste of time!" Shouted a squad member from his seat at the table.

Ikkaku nodded.

"That's why I have my own part of the bet. Hey kid, if I win, you have to come back here every day for a year, and face whatever humiliation my squad can throw at you." Some of his teammates laughed a little too hard at that. "Within reason," he cautioned them, his eyes turning to a few who had laughed the hardest. "I will not allow you to go too far." A few faces fell.

The boy went pale, but nodded.

"Y-yes, sir. I accept those terms, third seat Ikkaku!"

Ikkaku grinned again.

"What's your name, kid?"

"H-Hanataro Yamada, sir," the boy said, squaring his shoulders. "Seventh seat of squad four."

"Good," Ikkaku replied with a smile. "I always prefer to know my enemy's name. Follow me." He stood and, as one, every other soul reaper in the room stood with him. Ikkaku stepped around his table, and strode forward, taking the dark haired boy by the shoulder and steering him along as the rest of squad eleven followed.

"W-where are we going?" Hanataro asked. Ikkaku could feel the boy shaking under his grip.

"Squad eleven combat room," Ikkaku replied. "It's where the squad goes to watch when its members fight."

After a short walk, they arrived at the combat room; a large, stone built place with a thick straw mat along the floor. Ikkaku guided the runt to his spot on the training mat as the rest of the squad filed in, sitting on the benches that lined one wall. Some of them were already betting on how long Ikkaku planned to let the boy last. Ikkaku moved to a rack of wooden swords, glancing over at the boy.

"What kind of training blade would you prefer? Hard or light?"

Hanataro shook his head.

"N-neither. I want to fight you with my zanpakuto."

In that moment, the room went very quiet, a few squad members scowling angrily down at the boy.

"Kid…" Ikkaku began. "I ain't gonna kill you, so if you want to die, find some other way."

The dark haired boy shook his head.

"S-sir... I want to fight with my full power against a foe using his own strength. Otherwise... this proves nothing."

Ikkaku sighed. He was pretty sure he could avoid killing the kid if he had to, and he had to admit, he admired the boy's resolve.

"Fine, Yamada. But if you make me kill you, I will not forgive. Are we clear?"

The boy hesitated, but nodded.

* * *

Hanataro stood facing his foe, trying his hardest not to regret the choices that had led him here. He gripped his zanpakuto by the hilt, drawing the blade free of its sheath, which he tossed to the side. He stood with his blade raised, pointing it at Ikkaku. The man was huge, nearly three times his size, although it didn't help that Hanataro was tiny. The man was, in all honesty, probably only slightly larger than a regular person; but in the here and now, he seemed huge. Ikkaku drew his blade.

"Well then kid, feel free to take the first strike." Ikkaku said, smiling a smile that exposed a little too much of his teeth. The man reminded him of a wolf, or a hungry beast. Not for the first time, he had to remind himself not to run.

Hanataro shook his head, laying his left palm flat along the back of his blade, gripping its handle with his right.

"I already have." He said quietly. "Your turn."

Ikkaku scowled angrily at him.

"If this is just a way for you to die," he growled. "I will take it out on your teammates. You get that, right, kid?"

Hanataro nodded.

"Yeah, I get it. But I intend to win here, sir."

Ikkaku sighed, then nodded. What happened next occurred too fast for the boy to fully understand. The bald man disappeared in a blur, and Hanataro felt pain. Looking down, he saw the blade protruding from his gut. He gagged at the sensation, the weapon sending white lines of pain through places he hadn't even known could feel. He fell to his knees, the sword wrenching at his insides as he moved. It took everything he had not to pass out then and there. From behind him, he heard Ikkaku mutter quietly:

"Really kid? Can't even keep your feet. You are disappointing as hell, Yamada." The blade withdrew from Hanataro's midsection, and Ikkaku stepped away. "Report to the barracks tomorrow morning for your punishment, kid."

A little part of Hanataro rebelled at that, the tiny shard of resolve unbroken by the pain. He forced himself to stand.

"W-wait, this isn't over yet, sir… I'm not down yet."

Ikkaku turned his head, looking over his shoulder at the boy. A flash of anger crossed his features.

"How many times do I have to tell you kid? I ain't gonna kill you here!"

Hanataro took a moment to steady himself. The pain was beginning to recede, slower than he might have liked, his hand against the back of Hisagomaru allowing its healing properties to transfer through to him, making short work of the wound to his gut. He glanced down at the blade, the charge meter still only one third full. He couldn't allow Ikkaku to call this match yet, not when he was so close. The boy mustered everything he had and charged, letting out a fierce cry that, to the surrounding reapers, may as well have been the mewl a kitten. Ikkaku was caught off guard. He swung his sword at Hanataro, cutting the young reaper from shoulder to waist. Hanataro fell back onto the floor. His mind felt looser, the pain separating him from himself with a frightening lightness. Hanataro fought with all his might to do the one thing that he knew he had to keep doing. Hanataro kept holding Hisagomaru's blade. Ikkaku was shouting at him.

"Why kid?!" He yelled, his face twisting in fury and confusion. "What do you think you're proving here!?"

Hanataro clung to his blade for all he was worth, feeling the deep pain slowly recede once more. He felt Hisagomaru shift in his hand, becoming smaller, more compact. He pushed himself to his feet, panting and sweating from the recent pain. Dear god, he hoped this worked. Ikkaku stared at him. He forced a smile he was not feeling, and it came out looking weak and sad. It would do.

"Y-you did quite well, third seat, sir," He mumbled quietly. "Well enough to impress me a little; but you see-" he shrugged his shoulders free of his kimono, revealing his unmuscled chest, his injuries gone. "-I'm a little harder to hurt than that."

Ikkaku turned, his blade raised as he watched Hanataro with interest.

"I definitely cut you," he murmured, something approaching excitement entering his tone. "Is this kido? No. Most healing kido takes way longer than this. You're definitely not hard enough to shrug off my attacks. How are you standing, kid?"

Hanataro didn't answer, lifting his hands to free them from his sleeves, letting his kimono hang around his waist. He raised Hisagomaru's scalpel form in front of himself.

"This is my shikai, Hisagomaru." He said. "I thought someone like you deserved to be dealt a proper finishing blow."

Ikkaku chuckled.

"Kid, you're ballsy, I'll give you that." Ikaku once more drew his blade from it's sheath, but before he had time to strike, Hanataro flicked the scalpel towards him ever so slightly. Immedieately, the room was filled with an intense, blinding red light, the collected damage stored by Hisagomaru as energy and released in a cero like blast of pure, furious force. Ikkaku raised his blade to block, just in time, before the impact drove him through the training room wall. The larger man landed in a heap on the tiles that lined the sereitei walkways. He pushed himself to his feet with some effort, his clothing torn, his body cut and bruised, and limped forwards, back towards the combat room.

Everyone was looking at Hanataro now with the same blank eyed stare, mouths hanging open wide. Hanataro felt Hisagomaru return to its katana form in his hand. He returned his left hand to grip the back of the blade once more, directing its healing properties towards himself once more.

"Do you wish to continue, sir?" Hanataro asked politely, trying to inject a confidence he did not feel into his words.

Ikkaku rolled his neck with a series of audible clicks.

"Well, kid, I ain't gonna pretend I understand how you did that, but I can admit, I'm impressed. You're a fit match for anyone in this room." He flashed the boy a grin. "I'd even say you deserve to be finished off by MY shikai. Extend, Hozukimaru!" He swept his blade out to the side and, with a flash of light, it reshaped itself into a long spear. Hanataro braced himself. This was going to hurt.

The first strike had been too fast for Hanataro to comprehend. This third one, by comparison, was too fast for him to even see. All he knew was that one moment, Ikkaku had stood across from him, and the next, that spear was being forced straight through his thigh. He let out a strangled cry of pain, falling forwards onto the mat. As he fell, the injury pulled at the weapon in his leg, redoubling the pain. He could feel it as individual strands of muscle scraped against the blade, slicing his hamstrings to ribbons against its razor edge. Ikkaku withdrew the blade, this time gazing intently at the injury, watching as it closed itself, allowing Hanataro to pull himself to his knees.

"So you are healing yourself, huh, kid."

Hanataro pushed himself up on shaking legs, making it to his feet and staggering backwards, a few tears streaking down his face at the memory of the pain.

"Yeah… I am." He admitted. There was no sense trying to hide it anymore.

"And the more you heal yourself, the more red stuff goes into your zanpakuto there." Ikkaku summarized, pointing at Hisagomaru's partially-filled meter. Hanataro nodded. Again, there was no use hiding it if his enemy knew already. Ikkaku smiled. "Well then, kid, sorry to say this, but the fight's over. I can't risk taking another hit like that, so I'm ending this barehanded. You can't heal yourself if I don't injure you badly enough.

Hanataro had been afraid of this. He had also, however, planned for it. He drew a deep breath to steel himself as Ikkaku dismissed his shikai and sheathed his blade. In those few moments, he reached into the medical pouch he kept at his waist, shifting his grip on Hisagomaru so that he was holding it only by the blade, without a hand on the handle. He let out a ragged scream as he drew his medical scalpel up across his chest, cutting a deep red line of agony into his flesh. Ikkaku's eyes went wide with shock as Hanataro's shaking hand dropped the scalpel to the floor, stained a deep, dark red. Somehow, the dark haired youth remained on his feet. As the wound slowly began to knit itself back together, a red mist rose from the cut, filling the remainder of Hisagomaru's meter. The blade shifted once more in his hand, entering it's shikai.

Ikkaku gazed down at the panting boy before him, torn now between confusion and surprise.

"Why, kid? Why do you want to win so badly?"

Hanataro raised his tiny blade, sweat and tears pouring down his face in equal measure, mixing with the residual blood soaking down his chest.

"I want to win for my teammates," he said in a small voice. "I won't let your squad hurt them any more." He flicked the blade at Ikkaku. The red beam sliced through the air just like the first, carving a second large hole in the packed stone wall. Ikkaku dodged, barely, one hand caught in the blast, the bones shattered.

Outside the building, people had begun to gather, two releases of powerful kido attracting the attention of several lieutenants and more than one captain.

Hanataro let out a desperate scream of frustration as he saw that Ikkaku was still standing. He dropped to his knees, picking up his medical scalpel and drawing it across his chest once more in ragged, random lines. It took everything he had not to black out from the pain. In his hand, Hisagomaru once more entered its shikai.

Ikkaku rose to his feet, his broken hand clenched to his side. He looked the weeping boy dead in the eye and charged, his strategy apparently forgotten, drawing his blade with a roar. Hanataro waited for the strike to hit him before he used his attack, the blade cutting straight through his heart. He felt the pain this time as though from far away, like it was happening to someone else's body. That was probably a bad sign. With numb fingers, he flicked Hisagomaru towards his opponent. Ikkaku, too close to dodge and rooted to the spot by his blade embedded in the boy's chest, took the blast full on. It sent him crashing through the wall once more.

Hanataro felt faint. Numbly, he knew that Hisagomaru had reformed into it's healing shape, but Ikkaku's sword remained stuck in his chest, unable to be healed. With a weak hand, he reached up and began to work the blade free, pushing it out of himself inch by inch, the sword hit the floor with a thump, and Hanataro felt darkness rushing up to take him; a darkness that, for some reason, seemed to stop just an inch or so short of him. The boy felt the wound in his chest begin to close as awareness gradually seeped back into his mind.

Hanataro let himself wretch, emptying his stomach out onto the bloodstained floor. His legs were numb, his every muscle hurt with either the exertion or the phantom memory of his pain. He knew he needed to stand, but he couldn't find it in himself anymore. He needed to show strength, or all of this was for nothing. He turned his gaze to where the ranks of squad eleven still sat, staring at him, dumbfounded.

"W-who's next?" He asked weakly, the tears still trickling down his cheeks. A few of the reapers went a few shades paler.

A dark haired man who Hanataro recognized as the fourth seat, Yumichika Ayasegawa, rose to his feet. Hanataro looked up at him with an exhausted determination. For some reason, however, Yumichika did not draw his blade. He walked forwards, placing a hand under Hanataro's arm to help lift him to his feet.

"We have our winner," he said to the room at large. "From now on, squad four is under the personal protection of squad eleven, as promised." Hanataro gazed up at the man, not quite comprehending. "Now then, Hanataro," said Yumichika. "I think we need to go tend to Ikkaku's injuries." He gestured to Ikkaku, laying in a still heap on the distant tiling.

Hanataro nodded, dimly, taking a few stumbling steps before feeling himself begin to fall. He felt an arm under his shoulder, steadying him. Yumichika helped Hanataro to Ikkaku's body and the boy gently pressed his blade against the bald man's form. Yumichika made to pull the boy away, before noticing as Ikkaku's wounds slowly began to fade.

Hisagomaru resumed its shikai state and Hanataro fired it off into the sky, letting it dissipate harmlessly in the open air.

"What is going on here?" Called the usually calm voice of Retsu Unohana as she approached, agitated. "Why is my subordinate covered in blood?"

"Bravery." Grunted Ikkaku, pushing himself stiffly upright. "The kid made a bet that if he could beat me in a fight, team eleven had to stop bullying team four. He won."

Unohana looked down at Hanataro with an expression of undisguised shock.

"But… how?" She asked, her voice faint.

"Never again." Was Hanataro's only reply. The boy was shaking, fresh tears still streaming down his face.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Hope you liked it. I have no idea if this will become a multi chapter fic in the future. I kinda like the premise and I think it could go places, but I'm not sure. So, yeah. Thanks for reading, feel free to review.**


	2. Karakura

**AN: I don't expect to update this very regularly, but it's interesting enough that I wanna see where it goes.**

"Can you state your name for the record?"

"Hanataro Yamada, sir."

"Well then, Hanataro Yamada, it has come to my attention that you were able to beat the third seat of the eleventh squad in even combat. Can you please explain to those assembled how you did that?"

Hanataro gulped under the gaze of the old man. Head captain Yamamoto was a terrifying enough figure from afar, but now that the man was speaking directly to him, gazing down at him with polite interest, he just wasn't sure what to do.

"W-well, sir, I... uhh… I-"

"Speak up boy," said the old man in mild annoyance. "You do not want to keep the thirteen captains of the court guard waiting. I shall reiterate. How did you, the weakest fighter in the court guard squads, defeat Ikkaku Madarame, the best swordsman outside the ranks of captains and lieutenants?"

Hanataro took a deep breath to steady himself, looking over at his captain. Retsu Unohana smiled encouragingly at him.

"W-well, you see sir, my zanpakuto, Hisagomaru, is a kido type weap-"

"Yes, we know," said Yamamoto, cutting him off. "Your blade is considered one of the most powerful healing abilities in soul society. I was made aware of this when you discovered it in your academy days. It is why you were allowed into the court guard despite having practically no combat potential and is the reason why you were exempt from practicing swordsmanship in the academy. The question remains, how did you beat Madarame?"

Hanataro nodded quickly.

"Yes, sir. Hisagomaru works by absorbing injuries and converting them into attack potential for its shikai state, releasing an attack proportional to the energy required to heal the injuries. Its standard release is slightly weaker than a cero blast, sir."

Yamamoto nodded.

"And this release is what you used to defeat Madarame?"

Hanataro nodded shakily.

"I allowed myself to continue being attacked by third seat Madarame while I gripped Hisagomaru's blade to heal myself. I then used the resulting power to counterattack." Around him, a few of the assembled captains and lieutenants let out slight 'ohh' sounds.

"Wait a moment," said the youngest captain, Hitsugaya, a boy who looked to be around Hanataro's age. "There were three holes in the training room wall. Are you telling me that Ikkaku was dumb enough to continue attacking you even after he saw this technique in action the first two times?"

Hanataro shook his head rapidly.

"N-no sir! Third seat Madarame stopped using his blade on me after the first time I used my shikai. He figured out that the attack was related to the amount of healing I did."

"Then how did you win?" Yamamoto asked with mild curiosity.

"I…" Hanataro hesitated, resisting the urge to begin crying once more at the memory of what he had done. "I… used my standard issue scalpel to continue injuring myself to charge Hisagomaru manually."

"Did that not hurt?" Asked Yamamoto mildly, as if talking about the weather.

"M-more than anything I've ever experienced, sir." Hanataro said in a small voice.

"I see," said the old captain in that same mild voice. "Would you mind demonstrating your shikai to us, young man?"

Hanataro went pale.

"S-sir, I would, but a full charge requires a near enough fatal inju-" Before the boy could finish, Yamamoto had drawn his sword, shrugging off his coat and Kimono to sit around his waist. The old man drew the blade in a long line across his ribs, his expression didn't change in the slightest. Hanataro let out a gasp of shock and dashed forwards, fumbling for Hisagomaru clumsily as he ran, the boy drew his blade and brought it down in an overhead strike onto Yamamoto's torso, the blade gave off a slight red glow as Yamamoto's injuries began to knit themselves back together, the bar filled to two thirds.

"Hmm," said the old man. "I take it that injury was insufficient. Very well." Without pause, Yamamoto repeated the strike, watching with interest as his skin pulled itself whole once more.

"S-sir," Hanataro gasped. "Doesn't that hurt?"

Yamamoto cocked an eyebrow at the boy as though he had said something silly.

"Yes, young Hanataro, it was extremely painful. Ah, is that the shikai then?" Hisagomaru had filled, taking on the form of a scalpel once more. Hanataro nodded mutely. "Good. In that case, young man, I want you to take a few steps back and fire it at me."

Hanataro didn't know how to respond. He was just too out of his depth here. Obediently, the boy turned and walked some five or so paces before turning once more to face the head captain. He swallowed hard, before flicking the scalpel at the old man.

The beam of red shone bright enough to illuminate the entire room, casting the faces of the surrounding soul reapers in a deep crimson. The light struck Yamamoto dead on, raging and crackling against his skin for a moment, before seeming to dissipate harmlessly against him. The old man cocked an eyebrow.

"An impressive level of attack for someone never trained in combat." He murmured, stroking his beard with a hand. "We may have underestimated your potential, young Hanataro." Hanataro looked around himself, confused. Everyone was looking at him with a degree of interest. Yamamoto slowly began to dress himself fully once more, his face contemplative. Eventually, the old man spoke. "Hanataro Yamada, you are temporarily exempt from any and all duties pertinent to your role within your squad. You are to be privately tutored in the Hoho movement techniques by captain Kuchiki, one of our resident masters of Shunpo. You have potential to provide healing at an unparalleled rate and your applicability as a battlefield healer will be dependent entirely on the speed with which you can move."

A few of the captains were nodding quietly, Byakuya Kuchiki was gazing at him with an appraising expression. Hanataro went pale.

"W-what was that, sir?"

* * *

The weeks passed rather quickly, all things considered. Hanataro couldn't help but laugh. In his quarters within the squad four barracks, he had always kept a poster hung on the wall. 'shoot for sixth,' it had said; a way of motivating him to excel in his position as the seventh seat. He had not been sure whether to laugh or cry when he saw that poster the night of his promotion to third seat. He had left the poster up, though.

Every day, Hanataro was summoned to the Kuchiki private compound, where captain Byakuya drilled him until he could barely move. The man had been quite stunned to say the least, by his student's relative weakness.

"How is your endurance this low?" He had asked, baffled, on their first morning of training. "I thought the academy instilled a higher standard than this."

Hanataro had nodded, taking a moment to answer, his breathing heavy from exertion.

"They do, sir, but after they found out my sword healed people, I was told to focus on my medicinal Kido and to just ignore everything else."

Every night, Hanataro returned to the squad four barracks, usually carried by a member of Byakuya's household staff, too exhausted to move on his own.

At breakfast with his squad, Hanataro began to hear stories of squad eleven. Its members had ceased their bullying of his teammates and some had even begun intervening when people from other squads tried something, going far enough to start fights over it. Hanataro was surprised by this. He had only been expecting to provide a boost to squad four's reputation. As it turned out, however, gambling debts were something the eleventh squad abided by with a fearsome degree of fervor.

The result could well be called frightening, as many of the members of squad four now began to idolize their new protectors in the eleventh squad. For their part, several of the tough, brawny elevens were beginning to take individual members of squad four under their wings, offering to train them to fight. Some of these offers were accepted, usually with very little success. To this there were a few exceptions. Ikkaku Madarame had offered his personal instruction to the lieutenant, Isane, who had accepted and thrived.

Gradually, under the watchful eye of captain Kuchiki, Hanataro began to get faster. In the few brief moments that the captain allowed him to rest while they trained, Hanataro occasionally encountered a girl who looked to be slightly older than him. The girl identified herself as Rukia Kuchiki, the younger sister of lord Byakuya. The first few times they met, the girl was cordial, even polite, making occasional small talk as she moved about her duties. Then, one day, Hanataro had mentioned once owning a pet bunny, and the girl had forced him to describe it in exacting detail, a wild gleam in her eye. Apparently, Rukia liked cute things. As time passed, the two became friends.

It was Rukia who began Hanataro's instruction in the basic combat spells, spending several days teaching the boy the first bakudo, sai, along with the first hado, sho. Seeing this, Lord Byakuya began to incorporate combat kido into their daily regimen, noting that the boy had some surprising talent for it.

One day, nearly a year after they had become friends, Rukia was tasked with a particular mission, to investigate the unusual level of hollow activity in a particular town within the human world, a place called Karakura. Hanataro would miss having his friend around to talk to, but comforted himself in the knowledge that she would return before long.

* * *

Ichigo Kurosaki stood between the monster and the girl, shielding her with his body as the great arachnid shape loomed closer. The girl was a ghost, but that did not matter to him. For whatever reason, this monster wanted to hurt her. Ichigo refused to allow that, even if this monster was absolutely terrifying.

"Run," the orange haired boy said quietly. "Get as far away as you can. I'll hold it off." The frightened girl needed no more incentive. She ran. The creature moved to follow her. Ichigo wasn't sure what he could hope to achieve against a monster like this one, but he had to try. The boy leaped into the air, making use of a healthy degree of natural athleticism, and kicked the thing hard in the face; a face that was as big as he was, covered by a sinister white mask. Ichigo had expected the blow to be harmless. At best, he had hoped to distract the thing. What he had not expected was for the thing to rear backwards with a shrill cry as the blow struck home, eyes moving down to look at him, filled with killing intent. Awesome, he had the thing's attention; now he just needed to survive.

The creature raised an arm tipped with a long, scythe like claw, slashing it downwards at the boy. He stepped to the side and the blow whooshed past him, embedding itself into the pavement. The creature growled, straining as it tried to pull its claw free of the concrete. Ichigo took the opportunity to jump up once more, punching the thing in the face with all his might. He had always been strong, far more so than his frame and musculature might suggest, and had assumed it to be a product of the same abnormality that allowed him to see the dead. Even so, Ichigo found it difficult to believe that he was actually strong enough to hurt this creature. Nevertheless, the thing reared back once more as his fist struck home, a hairline crack appearing in its mask where the blow hit. The creature ripped it's talon free of the pavement with a furious shriek, eyes glowing with menace. Ichigo began to form an idea. If he could draw this thing into traffic, then he might be able to pull it into the path of a car or, better yet, a bus. No, that wouldn't work. What was he thinking? If he used traffic to fight this thing, someone else might get badly hurt. The question was rendered moot when a dark robed figure dropped from the roof of a nearby building and landed atop the creature's mask, before plunging a sword deep into its face. The creature dropped like a rag doll, hitting the floor and beginning slowly to dissolve.

The figure turned to stare at Ichigo, who stared back in turn. It was a girl, a few years younger than him in appearance, hair and robes a pure black.

"Interesting," she murmured. "The human almost seemed to be fighting the hollow. I should make a note of this."

Ichigo stared at her, stunned. Before he could recover his faculties enough to speak, the girl vanished, leaping back up towards the rooftops and out of sight.

Ichigo let himself sink to the ground, resting his head in his hands. Why couldn't the world just make sense sometimes?

* * *

Ichigo sat on his bed that night, toying with a lucky charm his sister had given him. Karin had been so proud when Ichigo announced that he was going to start trying to help the ghosts of Karakura move on. She had given him the tiny piece of carved wood the following day, saying it was to keep him safe. Ichigo smiled a little. His little sister had changed so much since then. Nowadays, it was virtually impossible to get her to express any positive sentiment. He joked sometimes that she was becoming an emo. Nevertheless, holding the cheap little scrap of wood had always helped Ichigo center himself. Whatever else was going on, his little sisters were proud of him. Ichigo thought back to the monster fight, remembering the strange girl who had saved him. He shook his head, this was all way too confusing.

Ichigo's confusion was not helped any when that same girl jumped lightly in through his open window. The teenager's eyes went wide as he backed away.

"W-what the hell are you doing here, lady!?"

The girl turned her gaze towards him for a moment, cocking her head in surprise.

"Huh, it's that kid form earlier. Wait, can you see me?"

"What?" Ichigo spluttered. "Of course I can see you!"

"Interesting," the girl muttered. "Your spiritual pressure must be quite impressive for a human. Regardless, I need you to stay where you are for a bit, okay?"

Ichigo shook himself. Today was just too surreal.

"Why?"

The girl sighed.

"Remember that monster from before?" She muttered. "Well, there's another one around here and I don't want some kid getting in the crossfire. Just stay in your house for now, kay?"

Ichigo felt a cold weight in the pit of his stomach. There were more of those things? He nodded. Better to let this girl handle it. Girl or no, she'd killed that thing from before in a single hit.

There was a small thump from outside the room. The dark haired girl raised a finger to her lips and cautiously moved to the door, opening it carefully. Yuzu lay on the floor outside, her face against the floor, unmoving. Ichigo ran towards his sister, his mind emptying to a blank panic.

"She's fine," the girl reassured from somewhere behind him. "Just a little overwhelmed at all the spiritual pressure nearby. It's normal."

Ichigo looked up at the girl, panicked.

"She'll be okay?"

The robed girl nodded, smiling slightly.

The teen moved his sister to his bed before following the robed girl downstairs. The first thing Ichigo noticed was the hole in the kitchen wall, easily the size of a car. The second thing he noticed, which immediately took prominence in his mind, was the monster holding Karin in its clawed hand.

The robed girl wasted no time. She charged, Ichigo hot on her heels. She brought her blade high overhead, swinging it down into the creature's thick wrist, as wide as a person's waist, cutting deep. The creature let out a wailing screech, dropping Karin. Ichigo launched himself forwards and caught his sister before she hit the ground. The monster lunged, not for the dark haired girl, but for Ichigo. The boy tried to dodge, but his course was stuck, too much momentum from launching himself after his sister. The robed girl moved quickly, placing herself between them with a wordless exclamation. The creature sunk its claws deep into the girl's shoulder. To her credit, she did not cry out, sinking silently to her knees as she tried to absorb the pain.

The thing towered over the helpless swordswoman, letting out a victorious roar. Ichigo lay his sister gently on the ground and stood, stepping forwards as the creature bent down to wrap it's hands around the wounded girl. Ichigo caught the distracted beast with an uppercut to the face, striking it with all his might. It took a step back, stumbling slightly.

Ichigo felt a roaring inside his mind. There was just too much to process right now, the girl beside him was telling him to run, pulling herself to her feet with some extraordinary effort. The monster was quickly recovering. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Karin move, turning her head the smallest amount to look at him. He couldn't focus on that now.

"Get away!" The dark haired girl urged again, holding her sword in a weak grip. "I'll hold it off!"

Ichigo shook his head.

"Not a chance. In the shape you're in, I'm a closer match with this thing than you are."

The girl hesitated, knowing his words to be true but not wanting to accept it.

"…Fine. There may be a way for us to win this. I'll need to lend you my powers... It could kill you."

"Fine," Ichigo nodded. "Just do it." The beast raised its head, the white mask splitting in a ghastly grin, before it charged.

Behind him, Ichigo heard Karin mutter something quietly:

"Y-you can do it, Ichigo."

In that moment, the boy felt a surge of pride, gripping the lucky charm he still held even tighter in his hand. Something felt different there. He glanced down. Two dark, glowing red lines ran through the tiny piece of wood, meeting in the middle to form a cross, each end tipped with a small curved line of the same glowing red. Ichigo brought up the strange cross like a shield, swiping it across himself to strike the creature in the face as it approached. The blow didn't do much, knocking the creature back, a few small chips flying from it's mask. Still, it was more than he'd managed with his bare hands.

Ichigo stepped forwards, placing himself between the monster and the others, raising the strange cross once more. The creature brought its arm around, claws outstretched as it swung at him. Ichigo planted his feet and… parried, for lack of a better word, with the strange cross of energy, knocking the monster off balance. He jumped high, rising further than he had ever jumped before, and brought the cross down once more on the things face, it stumbled backwards, a thin crack in its mask radiating out from where the blow had struck. Ichigo tried to focus on the cross in his hand, trying to get a sense of it. It felt… hungry. Ichigo faced the creature down as it pulled itself to its feet. On impulse, he tried feeding the hunger that he felt flowing from the strange weapon; just a little, at first. The cross flared bright red for an instant as Ichigo fed it, pushing something he couldn't quite find the words to describe into it with his mind. Then, the glow faded, the cross flickering back to its original color after a few short moments. He tried again as the monster approached at a run, this time feeding it more. The boy acted on instinct, swiping his glowing cross through the air and watching as it launched a red wheel of energy through the night, striking the monster in the stomach. This attack seemed to do more to the thing than everything else thus far, gouging a deep hole in its belly. The thing staggered, ceasing its attack mid strike as it brought an arm down to the ground to steady itself, barely three feet from him. Ichigo tried again, feeding the cross even more this time, trying to see what he could manage. This time, when he launched it, the glowing wheel was crossed by a single red line, marking its rotation as it span. The attack bit into the creatures mask, splitting it in two and showering Ichigo with a rain of dark red blood.

The monster fell, landing with surprisingly little noise as it slowly began to dissolve, its form fading to smoke in the pale evening light.

Ichigo turned to the wounded girl with a smile.

"Thanks for the help there. Couldn't have done it without you."

The robed girl was staring at Ichigo, eyes wide, her sword glowing a strange light blue that slowly began to fade as the two faced one another. The girl pointed at the cross in Ichigo's hand.

"W-what the heck is that!?" She asked in a shriek, before collapsing to the floor, unconscious.

Ichigo ran forwards, the wooden charm still clutched in his hand as he moved to help the girl. Her injuries were bad, he knew. He needed to fetch his dad, the old man was a surgeon after all. Ichigo took a few steps towards his severely damaged house, before a quiet tapping noise made him turn. A blonde man in a green and white hat stood behind him, holding the unconscious girl under one arm.

"Don't worry about this one, kid," the newcomer said casually. "I'll take care of her for you." Ichigo stared at the man. For his part, the stranger gazed down at the cross still emanating from Ichigo's hand. "Hey, kid, you mind if I take a look at that thing for a sec?" Numbly, Ichigo held out the small wooden charm from which the cross seemed to have sprouted. The man reached out and plucked the thing out of his palm, looking at it intently. As soon as the blonde man took it from Ichigo, the cross began to fade away, leaving just the lucky charm, looking as ordinary as it ever had. "Interesting." The man said quietly, handing the charm back to Ichigo. "Well, I'll see you around kid, later." With that, the man vanished, leaving Ichigo even more confused than ever.

 **AN: For those who might be confused, Ichigo just accessed his fullbring power instead of borrowing Rukia's Shinigami power.**


End file.
